


The Whole Wide World of Ear-Related Humor

by Drakey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: George's Ear, POV First Person, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakey/pseuds/Drakey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George feels a little off his game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whole Wide World of Ear-Related Humor

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head as I was posting my other three works, and I couldn't help but want to post it, because it seemed like such a fun thing to write.

_"How do you feel, Georgie?"_

I reach up, groping at the side of my head. It hurts and...

And oh, bloody hell, my ear's off. My bleedin' ear is bleedin' off, although, really, I guess it's probably done bleedin' by now, but you'd hardly call it my _bled_ ear, that just doesn't make any sense at all. What am I supposed to do with one ear and one great, gaping hole? That's not attractive! No girl is ever going to look at me and say how handsome I am again, not unless I turn one side to her all the time, and then I'll just be "one-side-George."

And now they're all looking at me. They expect me to say something, and here I sit, picking at my ear-hole, like I'm trying to get in a poke at my brain. They want me to say something. So say something.

I needed that like I needed a hole in the head? No, too trite, too forced.

Holey crap? Ugh.

And now Mum is starting to do that thing where she leans in real close to look at you, like she can spot a mild fever just by looking. Trying to diagnose a cold, mother? I've been living on my own for a while now, I can take care of myself. Well, living with Fred, but he doesn't count, he's _Fred_ , that's like saying that I've been living on my own, except I've got all my arms and legs with me.

What do I say?

'Ear now, it's not so--no. I'm not even going to finish that thought.

Hey, I'm bleedin' 'ear? Ew. That's even worse.

I guess I won't have to scrub behind my ear anymore? No, that just sounds dumb. Oh, god, what if that curse made me not funny anymore? Can a curse do that?

Fred is giving me that look he gets when he can't tell what I'm thinking now. I can't tell, but I think he might be about to go an try to take on the Death Eaters himself and try to find my ear or something. Don't do it, Fred, Snape'll curse your butt off.

But what in the hell do I say?

Well, at least we won't have to amputate? Almost.

Maybe I should just answer the question?

"How do you feel?"

Ventilated.

"How do you feel?"

Like fresh Swiss cheese.

"How do you feel?"

Leakier than Tom's bar. No. Nobody would get that.

Did I just see Harry, or does everyone still look like Harry? No, they can't still look like Harry, because there's Fred, so that must have been Harry.

"How do you feel?"

Like a jackass in a mask and a bad cloak took a melonballer to the side of my head.

Damn, Dad's muggle obsession is doing more to my brain than I thought: I know what a melonballer is.

How do I feel? I feel holey! I feel holey-er than thou, I feel holey as only the patron saint of holes can feel, I must be Saint George, slayer of dragons and haver of head holes.

How do you feel, Georgie? I'll tell you how I feel!

I feel _"Saintlike"_

_"What's wrong with him?"_


End file.
